Forgive Me, Passione
by Ladyhawk-s
Summary: It had been months since Fugo left the group that he considered his family. Certain that he would never be found once more, a familiar figure finds him. Aka. A talk between Giorno and Fugo


_**hel l o so here is the second day of posting ship work ! this time it's a new one with Fugo and Giorno ! This is actually a challenge piece that my friend told me to write so that's why it's Fugo and Giorno and she said hurt/comfort so there we go 8) this is my first ever JoJo fic so i apologize if it's not the best. im hoping that i will be able to write more jojo's in the future since i do actually like the series and caejose can sing me careless whispers. regardless, enjoy day 2s work.**_

"Sir, is there anything else you'd like?"

"No, this is it. I'll take the check please."

"Yes, sir." The waiter gave a small bow and left Pannacotta Fugo alone at the table with an espresso and a slice of tiramisu. To be honest, Fugo actually wasn't the biggest fan of tiramisu but in his new life, he had to content himself with things that didn't please him from before.

After the events in Venice, Fugo turned into a new man. He had to murder his original taste buds to enjoy other foods. Even his outer appearance changed from a young boy in a green suit with blonde hair to a grown teenager with white hair and a red suit. Sometimes he wore a different shade of eye contacts. He wasn't the same Fugo he was months ago. Friends? Family? None of those existed in his new world. He turned his back on them and vowed that they would forget about him just like he forgot about them.

But of course, just looking at his reflection in the dark liquid showed that everything about him was a lie. There wasn't a second where he didn't think about them. They brought him in when he needed it the most and yet, he was the first to leave when things grew inconvenient. In the beginning, Fugo blamed the girl. Trish was the whole reason for this divide, the whole reason why he had to leave, and why his group felt the need to betray the boss to protect her. It was all her fault that he was left alone in this country with no one to turn to or be with when times were tough.

But the days went on and the realization that he abandoned them sunk in. The only person he had to blame was himself and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. No matter what happened out there, if they came back with even the smallest of scratches, there would some blame placed on him. They wouldn't blame him outright of course but the guilt that would build up would be enough to bring him down.

"Here's your bill sir," the waiter softly spoke, making Fugo somewhat get out of his mind for a slight second.

"I'll take care of it."

"Very well sir."

Now _that _got Fugo's attention. His head snapped up and sitting right across from him was the newest member in their group, Giorno Giovanna. For the most part, he looked the same. Giorno still had that striking blond hair that stood out against the dark walls and his curls were neatly done like he always styled them to be. He wore similar clothes to how Fugo remembered but they contained a black color palette with his broches being a dark green and floral prints crawling up the side. But even with the small changes, nothing could erase his blinding emerald eyes sparkling against his calm face. Looking at him was looking at a dark cave by the sea with waves crashing against. It was cool and calming but also frightening.

"Giorno!? What are you doing here!?"

"Well, I could ask you the same thing Fugo."

"You know damn well why I'm here."

"Perhaps I know the reasonings leading up to this but I don't know why you are specifically here."

"Cut the bullshit," Fugo growled, his tone growing unusually fierce against his throat. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

Giorno sat silent for a minute. Anxiety raced through Fugo's veins, making his temper boil to extreme heats. He was supposed to be happy to see his lost friend, not being controlled by this weird frustrated worry. His foot kept tapping rapidly and his fist tightened right around the fork, ready to pounce when-

"There are some things that I think you should know," Giorno finally spoke, pushing back his chair and standing. "However, not here. Let's go to the piazza. It'll be easier to talk there."

"...Alright…" Fugo quietly assented, following Giorno's footsteps out the door of the hidden cafe and into the streets.

In his time alone, Fugo managed to hide all the way in the northern town of Milan. It was a journey all the way there and took more than imagined but here, he managed to escape the life he had built before. He was still chained in the mafia life but at least he could get away with not speaking his name out loud.

Out in the piazza, there were all kinds of people bustling around. Most of the attention came with the cathedral and, with church starting soon, people were pushing themselves through with their cameras. It was the opposite of quiet yet, this was the time to have a private conversation. With no one looking their way, they could speak about whatever they needed to and there wouldn't be one eye batted their way.

"I see that you made it out ok," Fugo started, breaking the tension around the subject and diving in. Better to rip off the bandaid than have it be stuck.

"Yes, I am fine, although that's a bit more expected due to Golden Experience."

"Naturally."

"But Mista and Trish are alright as well. Mista has stayed with me while we sent Trish off to go back to school. That's what Bucciarati would have wanted for her. Though, she did get attached to Mista at the end so we see her more often than we should. Not that either of us are complaining but sometimes I do think about if she's safe."

Fugo didn't answer right away. Rather he couldn't. All of what Giorno said bubbled together and his mind could only focus around the word _would. _"What do you mean by that Giorno?"

"Mean by what?"

"Don't play fucking stupid with me!" Fugo screamed out, grabbing onto Giorno's jacket to pull him closer and scream further. Heads swiveled their way and he had to roughly release him though straining his neck seemed like a fun activity right about now. "What the fuck was up with that _would have _shit!? What do you mean!?"

"Fugo, calm down."

"Like hell you're going to tell me to calm down!"

"I know it comes from guilt but I can't explain anything until you quiet down."

"...Fine," Fugo grumbled out, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking pebbles that laid out in his path.

It grew awkwardly quiet for a moment after that. After a bit of time to sizzle down, Fugo did feel kind of bad that he acted out the way he did. Giorno was right; it was out of guilt. But, he needed to know, he needed-

"Everyone else is dead, Fugo."

Oh. There it is. There it fucking is.

"How?" He whispered out, avoiding Giorno's mesmerizing eyes and keeping his to the ground.

"All were done by the hands of Diavolo, just in different ways…."

Fugo then looked up and gave him a hard stare. "Please tell me."

And that's what Giorno did. He started the story at their departure, depicting the will and determination everyone had to defeat the boss. It was strong amongst them and it was apparent that they knew the risks that would come going against such a powerful opponent. Yet, despite being told that they were strong and pulled through to the very end, Fugo couldn't help feeling disgusted with himself. Abbacchio couldn't have known right away that he was going to die in that moment but the boss had no remorse. To hear that Bucciarati had been walking with a shell of zombie since he had gotten up against the boss made his skin crawl and contort. And Narancia…..poor Narancia. While his was the most instantaneous, it was also the one that hurt the most. Fugo remembered him swimming across the sea in a desperate attempt at proving he was strong enough. That he could handle the hardships that awaited for him. As much as Fugo got annoyed by Narancia at times, they still had a close bond from their past and knowing that his death came from an act of randomness, just by pure coincidence…..that hurt heavily. He wasn't sure if Giorno knew this but Narancia had big dreams that went above and beyond. There were so many things that he wanted to accomplish in his life and now….it was all gone.

There was comfort in knowing that each of their deaths did come with a positive. Abbacchio managed to get the boss's face to lead them where they needed to go. Bucciarati had helped Giorno and the others get back the arrow, which led to Golden Experience Requiem. And Narancia ...well his death led to the caution that the boss was close behind, that his secondary soul resides somewhere near to them and that they had to stay on their toes and watch their backs.

But nothing could shake off the pure amount of guilt residing in Fugo. Questions roamed in his mind constantly.

_What would have happened if I was there?_

_Would others have survived? _

_Could I maybe have prevented others from dying?_

_Would the boss be weak against Purple Haze? _

_Or would I have been weak and tore everyone down? _

_Was this the best way? Or was it the worst outcome? _

"What are you thinking right now?" Giorno asked him, shaking him out of the rut that he dug from all the thoughts.

"Nothing," Fugo quickly responded back, looking down at the ground and keeping his eyes there. He couldn't look at Giorno. Not now. He didn't know when he could but he couldn't. It was impossible. It wasn't doable. It was-

"You're thinking that you had something to do with their deaths, correct?"

Ok now he could look at him. Giorno's emerald eyes turned a shade of blue with his eyebrows turned up in worry. He had a small frown that dimples creased under. There was a genuine feeling of distraught and Fugo couldn't handle it. Especially since he was so right.

"No matter what you think….It never was your fault. You had nothing to do with it."

Fugo clenched his fists, trying to fight the buds of tears from flowing. "How can you say that?!" His hands gripped the sides of Giorno's jacket and pulled him closer. "How!? How can you tell me that?"

Giorno didn't respond.

"Of course I had a fault in it!" He wailed, just allowing it to flow out and get it all on the outside. "These guys were my family! The people who protected me and took me in when no one wouldn't! They saved my life so many times! True, sometimes they were ridiculous and stupid and reckless but….But they were my family! And I blew it!"

"Fugo, it's not-"

"Of course it is!" Tears stung from his eyes and trickled down his cheeks. "Everyone else was brave and strong and I was a coward! They all stuck together knowing they could die at any moment and I just stood there, watching them leave like a coward!" Sobs grew harsher in his throat and his breaths released heavily. The tears wouldn't stop. Dear lord, why weren't they stopping!? What a useless fool. "I chose myself over them and it was as if I supported the boss instead of my family. They died thinking I was a traitor! That I never thought of them! And I could never tell them that I'm sorry for leaving them and betraying them the way I did. I let my family down and they hate me, I'm sure of it!"

Giorno grabbed onto his wrists and ripped him away from his jacket, his eyes boring into Fugo's red ones. "They died worrying about you," he stated calmly, being the static force against Fugo's chaotic one. "There were many things that they wanted to do and you were all included in them. It…..it hurts to say but Narancia was excited to see you. Moments before he died, he mentioned that he wanted to see you again and tell you all about the adventures he went on with us. No matter what happened out there, you're still our family."

This hurt. This hurt too bad. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything.

And then.

Fugo felt arms embracing him. They were skinny and uncomfortable but they were still around him. Since Giorno was shorter than him, it was his head that rested on his shoulder but that didn't matter to Fugo. Because there was that warmth that he had been craving for a while now. All he had was himself so having that comfort of another being brought bliss to his heart. It was comforting and beautiful and magical and wonderful and every single good thing that was in this world. He didn't know he needed it but now that Giorno was here, Fugo needed it more than ever.

There were words Fugo wanted to say. All kinds of things really like _thank you_ and _I'm sorry_ and _dear lord what kind of cologne you wear, that's really nice_.

But nothing wanted to come out unless they were sad wails of emotions that had been suppressed for so long. So he tried to pursue the notion that actions spoke louder than words and he hugged Giorno back, falling into his embrace. Fugo wasn't a man to be vulnerable but in this moment, everything let go and it was only him and Giorno.

No one else. Just them.

And new found love that was hidden in Fugo's dark world.


End file.
